


Nature's way of giving

by Hedwig_Dordt



Series: Love is 'verse [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Meeting the Family, Still not together, first son!stiles stilinski, prince!derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 01:52:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6354118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hedwig_Dordt/pseuds/Hedwig_Dordt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek invites Stiles over to join him and his family on vacation. Because they're friends. </p><p>Obviously</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nature's way of giving

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QHolmes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QHolmes/gifts).



> Part 2 to Love is a many-splendored thing, I suppose you could read it as a stand-alone, but I think it makes more sense if you read it in order. 
> 
> With massive gratitude to Fightyourdragon, who takes out time to beta read/run ideas/grammar wrangle my ridiculous ideas, on top of a job and raising an amazing boy.

**Love is nature's way of giving/A reason to be living**

Derek is composing a text on the sunchair next to the pool when Laura grabs his phone from his hand. “So, who’s more interesting than your sister who you haven’t seen in years?”

“I’ve been here for three weeks!” Derek objects, grasping after his phone that Laura dangles in front of him. “Give that back.”

“I’m not going to look, I just want to know who you’re into.”

Derek weighs his options: deny everything, and deal with her pestering, or tell her now and deal with her teasing. “Okay, there might be someone.”

“CALLED IT!” Laura says triumphantly, “Details, come on, spill!” Derek looks at the floor, wondering where to start. “Okay - twenty questions. Boy or girl or none of the above?” Laura presses.

“Boy.”

“From school?”

“No.”

“Your environment stuff?”

“No.” Derek is starting to enjoy this. 

“Via friends?”

“No.” Derek shakes his head smugly.

Laura looks puzzled, and then horrified. “Grindr?”

“No!” Derek is a little scandalised his sister even knows what that is. “I don’t even have an account.”

“Online dating?”

“Nope.”

Laura looks stumped for a moment. “So, a meet-cute,” She concludes. “Where might that have happened?” And then inspiration strikes: “Did you meet someone at the state visit?”

Derek nods slowly. 

“From our side or theirs?” Laura tries to narrow it down.

“Theirs.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“I’m counting that as a question. You’ve had nine,” Derek informs her.

“That wasn’t a question!” Laura protests. “Anyway, professional or personal part of the visit?”

“Personal, more or less,” Derek non-answers.

Laura frowns, trying to remember who might have connections close enough to the US president to qualify. “The Stilinski boy?” 

Derek looks away, blushing, “Stiles, yeah.”

Laura returns his phone. “Not going to lie, he is kind of cute. But isn’t he a bit of a...” She waves her hand. “Player?”

Derek sighs. “He is. Well, he was. I mean, from what I hear he was in the tabloids a lot over the last years. But he’s gotten better!”

“At hiding it, I’m sure,” Laura huffs unconvinced.

“I met him a couple of times, and he is… well, he’s not nice, per se. He’s a bit sarcastic to cover for his insecurities, but he is…” Derek tries to find the word, “real. Underneath the bluster.” 

“You should invite him over,” Laura says.

“God no! What if he says yes?” 

“Then I get to meet him, and you get to show loverboy a bit of where you come from.” Laura says logically. 

“I’ll talk to mom.” Derek offers as a compromise. The thought of asking Stiles over with his family fills him with equal measures joy and dread. What if he says no - or worse: what if he says yes? 

To Derek’s surprise, Talia Hale seems amenable to the idea of bringing over a friend from the US. He sets up a Skype date with Stiles the next day to invite him over. He keeps racking his brain for an elegant segue into “wanna come over across the Atlantic?” He shouldn’t have worried. 

“Hey Derek - guess what?” Stiles opens enthusiastically.

“What?”

“I’m starting with Danny’s on September 1st! I’m officially on holiday right now!”

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you.” Stiles dips his head, hiding how widely he is smiling. 

“You know where you can spend your holiday very well?” Derek asks smoothly.

“Cancun?” Stiles suggests.

“That might work. I was thinking of northern Spain.”

Stiles’ jaw drops rather inelegantly, and Derek tries to remain calm. “You mean with you?” Stiles eventually asks.

“Yes.” Derek says, smiling a little as Stiles doesn’t seem to object to the idea. “I mean, it’s not all parties here, but it’s gorgeous and not overrun by people so you wouldn’t get papped. A lot.”

“I’d love that!” Stiles’ usual exuberance returns. “Are you sure that’s okay?”

“I already checked with my family, they’d love to meet you.”

“It’s really generous.” Stiles hesitates. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure we’re sure. Look, you’ve already met Cora, and my parents.” Derek says, “Laura is here, but she’s a dick, so you’ll get along splendidly.”

“Hey!” Stiles objects. 

“And I’d like to show you around here.”

“So you can geek out to a new audience, I get it.” 

Derek can’t tell for certain if Stiles is mocking him in earnest or lovingly as his sisters do. “I’m not even going to argue that,” Derek says. “Come over, play captive audience, lounge at the pool?” Derek sees Stiles bending closer over the keyboard. 

“I’m booking my ticket right now.” Stiles says. “What should I pack?”

“A decent rain coat?” Derek suggests, because that’s what people are most likely to forget. 

“Got it. I’m going to book a ticket now and tell my dad and…”

“Right. Go ahead and get organised.” Derek says smiling fondly at his laptop screen. “Text me when you have an arrival time and place, I’ll set the rest of your flight path.”

“Will do. Now, go pester your sister, I have planning to do!”

“‘Bye Stiles!” Derek says.

“Bye Derek. See you soon!”

Derek ends the call, turns off his laptop and gets up from behind his desk to flop down on his bed, feeling proud of himself. He did it - and Stiles said yes. 

He is at the hangar a good hour before the plane is scheduled to arrive, but he just got so antsy around the house that his sister almost kicked him out. He declined a driver and a guard, arguing that the short distance and their unmarked car were protection enough. So he has his copy of 2666 on the steering wheel of the car, and he’s staring at it pretending to read. He is nervous about Stiles’ visit. He knows they’ll have fun together, they always do, but it’s different this time. It feels more personal to have Stiles here, where he’s from. As the plane lands, he closes his book, puts it away in his bag, and gets out of the car to put it in the trunk. He aims for a casual stance as Stiles carefully walks down the stairs from the small private plane, trying not to trip over his feet. 

“Stiles, you made it!” He says when Stiles’ feet touch the ground. He walks over to embrace Stiles, trying to make it last as long as he can without lingering inappropriately. 

“Of course, who else did you expect to come out of this plane?” Stiles snarks, his words softened by how eagerly he returns the hug. They linger for a few seconds, but then Derek remembers himself, and lets go. One of the crew members brings down two suitcases. 

“Gracias,” Stiles says with a horrendous American accent.

“De nada.” The crewman nods with a smile.

“Just put them down, I’ll put them in the car,” Derek says in Spanish. The man puts the suitcases down, tips his imaginary hat at Derek, who acknowledges the bow on instinct. “And thank you for taking care of him.”

“You’re welcome.” The man turns and walks away, and Derek lets out a small breath of relief the man didn’t feel compelled to leave walking backwards because it’s treason not to face a royal. 

“Let’s go,” Derek says picking up the suitcases as Stiles walks around the car to get into the passenger seat. Derek gets in on the driver’s side, turns on the engine, turns on the radio softly, and navigates out of the building. 

“So where are we headed?” Stiles asks.

“The country house,” Derek says. “It’s just the family: my parents, Cora and Laura. You’ve met them already.”

“Sort of,” Stiles mutters, remembering hiding behind a potted plant at the reception. “I Thought Cora was fun. Your mother scares me though.”

“You’ll be fine. We can go exploring when you’re a little less jet lagged. I have a few projects I’d like to visit, but nothing urgent.”

“You can just spring spot checks on your projects?” Stiles asks. “I thought those visits were planned months in advance!”

“It wouldn’t be a spot check if it were planned.” Derek points out logically.

“Point.” Stiles yawns. “You’d think I’d be less tired after sitting on planes for hours on end.”

“Get some rest,” Derek says soothingly. 

Stiles reclines the back of the car seat further. “I once tried to convince my dad I wasn’t “lying” because I was standing up.” 

Derek huffs his amusement and sneaks a glance at Stiles making himself comfortable. “I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”

“I don’t typically sleep well without my pillow,” Stiles says. 

“Close your eyes and see what happens.”

For once, Stiles does as he’s told. 

When they arrive, Derek turns off the engine. He looks over at Stiles’ sleeping form, and scolds himself for being a creeper when Stiles starts to stir.

“We’re here,” Derek says softly. From the corner of his eyes he sees his family spill out of the house. He tries to gesture at them to get back inside, Laura shakes her head slowly, obviously intent on savouring him being awkward around his crush for as long as she can manage. “I’m sorry, there’s a bit of a committee waiting for you. Are you ready?”

“If I say no, will that make a difference?”

Derek grins apologetically: “Probably not.”

“Let’s get it over with then.” Stiles says, rubbing his eyes. “Four items of terrifyingly impressive family members, with a side of I have no idea why I signed up for this - coming up.”

“They’ll like you, I promise.”

Stiles huffs and opens the door. The groundsman comes from the house as they get out of the car. Derek hands over the keys as Stiles goes over to introduce himself to the family. When Derek joins the group, his mother leads the way inside.

“Coffee first?” Talia says to Stiles. 

“Yes, please.” Stiles says politely. Talia leads them to the kitchen, where she sends away the rest of the family, introduces their head chef Rosa, and follows her family out of the kitchen.

“Coffee for you?” she asks turning to Stiles.

“Por favor?” Stiles tries. 

“Sit, please.” It’s somewhere between an order and a request. Derek takes a seat at an old-looking wooden table and watches Stiles takes in his surroundings.

“Anything you’d like to know?” Derek asks.

“How old is this place?” Stiles asks breathless.

“Well, people have been living in these parts for thousands of years. But the foundations of the building stem from the fourteenth century. There are modifications that have been made through the centuries. We had the kitchen updated a couple of years ago.”

The cook turns around with two mugs of coffee and a plate of sandwiches.

“Gracias,” Stiles says, smiling widely at her.

“Come!” she says invitingly and returns to her other tasks.

“How much Spanish do you speak?” Derek asks, curious.

“Scott’s mother was born Delgado.” Stiles says, “so a little, I guess?”

“And then there’s the differences with Spain’s Spanish and what you heard over there.” Derek states. He knows he had his share of intercultural mishaps. 

“Back home.” Stiles says with that soft smile. 

“For you.” Derek says, a wave of longing for his chosen home surprises him.

“Weird, huh?” Stiles says, cautiously sipping the coffee, “how ‘home’ can mean various things, depending.” Derek nods, his hands gripping his mug tightly. Stiles picks up a sandwich and takes a bites out of it. He moans in delight as he tastes the layers of spinach and tomato. “This is great!” Stiles says. Derek nods stiffly, looking out the window, trying to calm himself down. Stiles polishes off his food in record time. 

“I’ll show you to your room, I think your luggage should be there by now.” Derek gets up. Stiles puts their mugs on his plate and gets up to put them in the sink. Derek frowns, and then shrugs. 

“Still not used to this,” Stiles mutters. 

“Well, hold onto your hat, it’s going to get worse,” Derek promises.

“For very small values of bad,” Stiles guesses.

“I knew there was a nerd hiding behind that pretty face.” Derek grins at him fondly.

Derek shows Stiles the most important routes through the castle: how to get from the kitchens to the dining room, to the bedrooms upstairs. Stiles’s suitcases have been delivered and put on the bed. 

“We could take a swim if you’re up for that?” Derek offers. 

“Sounds good. Mind if I take a bit of time to unpack, first maybe?”

“Fine. I’m next door, so knock on my door when you’re ready.” 

Derek leaves Stiles’ room and walks into his own room, leaving the door open on a crack and sets back to work on his pet translation project. Just when he starting to settle in, Cora knocks on the door as she walks into the room. 

“Hey, is it okay if I go say hello to Stiles now?” She asks.

“Sure. He’s unpacking I think.”

“I promise not to embarrass you too much.” She grins at him.

“Why thank you, sister.” He says in the most formal tone he can manage. She waves and turns around to leave his room. He picks up the the dialogue write-up and marks where the puns are in the French text. When he is almost engrossed in the question of which puns translate and which ones don’t, there is a soft rap on the door. He looks up: “Oh, hey Stiles, come in.”

Stiles walks into his room, looks around and falls down on his bed, arms stretched out over his head. Derek pushes back his chair so he can face Stiles. His stomach flutters at the sight of those long limbs splayed out on his sheets.

“I want to sleep and I’m too awake.” Stiles complains. “I hate air travel.”

“It’s probably for the best if you stay awake at least until dinner,” Derek says, “but you’re welcome to go to sleep afterwards.”

“I know, I know.” Stiles sighs. “But I’m allowed to complain for a bit, okay?”

“Sure.” Derek moves to turn back the his table.

“So what’s the plan?” Stiles asks.

“Plan?”

“I’m sure you have our week all mapped out.” Stiles says.

“Well, there’s options, yes. You want to go through them now?”

“Might as well.”

“There’s a wolf conservation project I have been wanting to visit, and haven’t gotten around to. So tomorrow, or the day after. My parents will want to treat you to a proper banquet, so that’s probably tomorrow. If you have any requirements, just let Rosa know. There’s some old remnants of the history that I’d like to show you. So Thursday or Friday? I take requests. We could go hiking, or just stay in and swim and watch movies.”

Stiles sits up. “Yes, can we go swimming?”

“Sure. You have your swimming trunks?”

“Are they required?” Stiles bats his lashes.

“My parents are here too.”

Stiles’ grin falls: “Right. Of course.”

“But we can go now, if you like. You get changed, I’ll get some towels.” He watches Stiles get up and leave before he starts pulling off his shirt, and throws it on his bed. He closes the door before he peels off his jeans and pants and put on his swimming trunks. He takes four towels from his closet and leaves his room, turning off the light as he leaves.

They spend the afternoon swimming. They have dinner early by the local standards, but Stiles is yawning his way through it. When the servant has picked up the dessert plates, Derek figures it’s time to send his guest to bed. 

"Let me walk you to your room." Derek says getting up from his chair.

Stiles looks at him puzzled, like he wants to object and then gives up. "Sure. Thanks."

Derek holds the door to the hallway for him and follows Stiles to the bedroom. He stands in the doorway, trying to find words for the jumble of feelings in his stomach. "Do you have everything you need?" he asks as Stiles rummages in his closet.

"I think so."

"Feel free to ask for anything." Derek says, trying to convey that he means more than towels. 

"Thanks."

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

Stiles looks at him, his amber eyes wide and Derek feels his courage dropping. "Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for having me, man." Stiles says. "This is seriously cool."

"Good night, Stiles."

"You too."

Derek turns around back to the drawing room where his sisters are looking surprised to see him.

"That was fast," Cora says dryly.

"Shut up. He is super tired. I don't want to make things weird."

Laura shuffles a deck of cards and deals. Derek sits down at the table relieved that his sisters don’t push the issue and picks up his cards.

Derek has a few routines he sticks to religiously, chief among them a run every other morning before breakfast. His sister pestered him all throughout his teenage years to please shower before he comes to the breakfast table, but the things is, when he comes home from a run, he’s _hungry_. 

“Hi Beatriz,” he says as he sees her walking in the corridor towards the dining room with a tray, “am I not the first one today?”

“No, your guest is up already.” She says with a smile. He holds the door for her. She nods in gratitude and steps into the room. 

“Stiles, good morning. Is it okay if I have breakfast first?” He asks.

Stiles gives him a once-over. “Sure. I mean, it’s your chairs you’re dripping on.” With that he returns to the puffy American pancakes that Luis apparently learned to cook in preparation for their guest. 

“Are we going to that project of yours today?” Stiles asks, “Because I’m curious what is up with that.”

“Sure, I’ll call them after breakfast. We can drive over, and have lunch there?”

Beatriz returns with his morning shake, that Stiles eyes dubiously. Derek shrugs. “It’s nutritious.” Stiles shudders exaggeratedly and digs back into his stack of pancakes. 

Derek and Stiles sit on the backseat of the car, far enough apart so that Derek doesn’t obsess over how much touching between them would be acceptable and what would be crossing the border of friendship into some kind of harassment. Instead, he focuses on today’s project. He tells Stiles about the history of the wolf population in Spain, about some of the arguments with sheep herders over his project, and how they have been working on a code for the hunters to work by. Stiles seems content to listen to him, staring out the window. When Derek runs out of things to brief Stiles on, they’re both quiet. When the driver exits the highway, Derek tenses up a bit, the way he does when he is going for a public appearance. Stiles seems to notice his tension and grabs his hand. With a squeeze, Stiles says, "You'll do fine. Everyone there is there because they care about your project, okay? So geek out with them, you'll be fine."

Derek exhales slowly through his mouth and nods. "Yes, I'll try to remember that."

"I'm sorry I can't talk their ears off for you - my Spanish isn't good enough for that."

Derek smiles, "I'm sure they understand more than you give them credit for."

When they arrive, the driver holds the door for them to get out, and Stiles immediately lets go so they can get out of the car. There's a small crowd of people cheering as Derek stands up. When he waves, the crowd gets louder. Stiles trails behind him at a distance, trying to avoid getting in the pictures everyone seemed to be taking. The director of the center steps forward, and shakes Derek's hand for about five minutes while a photographer takes their picture. Derek introduces Stiles to the director, and they shake hands too.

“Mind if I wander around?” Stiles asks.

“Sure, go ahead.” The director says. “Mr. Hale, care to follow me?”

“Are you okay with that?” He asks Stiles.

“Yes, I’ll be fine. I promise I won’t get lost.” Stiles makes a shooing motion with his hand. Derek smiles at him and turns back to the director, leaving Stiles to find his own way. Quietly, Derek takes a long deep breath and puts on his prince charming persona, taking selfies with the people in the crowd, shaking hands, and thanking everyone there for all their efforts in rapid Spanish and some Asturian. It’s remarkably easy to let it wash over him. He keeps an eye out for Stiles, but loses sight of him after a few minutes. 

When he feels he has done his share, he checks with their driver. “Did you keep an eye out for the First Son?”

“He went into the visitor’s center.”

"Stiles?" Derek calls, standing in the door opening.

"Hey! Are you done?"

"Yes, quite." Derek says, "ready to get out of here?"

"Don't you have to..." Stiles gestures at the crowd outside.

"No, I think this is about it for me today," Derek says. "I'm all yours again." He cringes a little when he realises what he just said. 

"Sure, let's head back home. I could do with a swim, I think." Stiles says, completely saving Derek the humiliation of confessing his feelings in front of dozens of witnesses. Derek waves at their driver who nods in acknowledgement and gets the car. 

When they are safely back in the car, Stiles tells Derek, "You were amazing out there."

Derek stiffens a little, unsure what to do with praise he doesn’t want. "No I wasn't."

"You kinda were, dude. Those people ate you up with a spoon."

"Nah, they just..."

"Derek, I may be new to the whole royalty thing, but you're a natural at it!" Stiles says, "the way you put people at ease, and make it about them, it was amazing. I felt like taking notes for my dad."

“Thank you?” Derek tries hoping Stiles will drop the subject. He realises how much of their relationship was founded outside the context of European royalty, and how much freedom that had given Derek, to be with someone unencumbered by that upbringing. Derek needs to find a way to tell Stiles how he feels without messing up their friendship. 

But inevitably, Wednesday night, Stiles and Derek are packing their suitcases to head back to the US and Derek has said nothing. On Thursday morning, they say their goodbyes to the rest of the Hale family. Stiles thanks them profusely for their hospitality. Derek hugs his sisters and kisses his mother on her cheeks. The driver brings them to the airport, where a small security team meets them. Even by his own standards, Derek is quiet as they make their way through the airport, through passport control and onto the plane. He feels like he missed his shot to do something, and he has run out of time. They're up in the air, Stiles engrossed in his respective book, Derek looking blankly at a page.

"Are you looking forward to working for Danny?" Derek asks.

"Yeah, kinda. I'm still not really sure it's the best option to forego college, but on the other hand I don't think I could stand another round of orientation." Stiles says.

"Please tell us your name and impersonate your favourite fruit." Derek laughs a little at the memory of orientation, "I'm glad I went through that only once."

"They don't do that in grad school?"

"No, that's more of a 'here’s the cafeteria, there's the library, there's the bathrooms if you need to cry' sort of program."

"A job sounds better by the minute." Stiles purses his lips. Derek looks at him a few long moments before tearing his eyes away.

"It's not for everyone," Derek shrugs, "and that's okay. God knows you're smart enough to do whatever you want."

"See, that's the whole problem. I'm sure I could, but I can never figure out what I should be doing, how to make these choices. I don't want to do what's easy because it's easy, but I don't really want to do what's hard either." He looks at Derek, as if he has an answer. Derek feels the soft affectionate smile pulling at the edge of his lips. 

"Sometimes I'm a little jealous of you, you know?" Stiles continues. 

"Jealous?" Derek says incredulously.

"You have a family that's complete, and you know - I don't know - your place in the world?"

"It doesn't always feel like that," Derek says quietly.

"I love my dad, don't get me wrong, and I am so so proud of him pulling himself together after everything. More than together. Americans love a good redemption story, but boy does it ever suck to be in one."

Derek winces. "I can only imagine."

Stiles attempts a shrug. "It's okay. We're in a good place now."

"Just because it's in the past doesn't mean it can't still hurt."

"Are you quoting Rafiki at me?"

"Disney gets it right sometimes, sue me."

"I can't believe it, you're an actual Disney prince." Stiles seems elated, but Derek doesn't really get why Stiles finds that so great.

"You know that's why I stay in the US, right? I kept feeling I was tied up in expectations and protocol and all that stuff. I was a symbol, but symbols aren't allowed to be humans. Back home, I get to be a person."

"US home?" Stiles asks, "because that word keeps changing meaning with you."

Derek smirks a bit at that, "yes, back in US-home. Where we're going now. Where my house is. Where I live."

"We make quite a pair," Stiles muses, "me wanting a path and any clue as to what to do, and you looking to break away from it."

"Yes, we do," Derek says softly. By some unspoken agreement, they return to their books.

Stiles' driver-bodyguard picks them up directly from the plane. A second car will bring his and Derek's luggage. When the car stops at Derek's door, Stiles turns towards him. Derek racks his brain for the right words - to tell Stiles not to leave him alone again, to go on dates with him, watch the sunset over the New York harbor, come sightseeing in San Francisco, hold hands in a movie theater. But the words aren’t coming.

"So, thanks, you know. For having me. It was amazing." Stiles says. 

Derek smiles at him. "Thanks for coming. I know my family can be a bit much. I don't know how I'd have survived without you there."

"No problem. They're a bit weird, but hey, that's family for you, I guess."

Derek frowns. "What happened?"

"Your mom offered me 'a place at court'?" Stiles makes air quotes.

Derek looks mortified, "Oh god, I'm so sorry," he says and rushes out of the car. He gets his bags from the trunk of the car and walks into the apartment block. He is going to have _words_ with his mother. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, there will be a part three wherein they finally get their act together. Yes, there will be sex. No, I don't know why that will get done. SORRY


End file.
